Learning To Fly
by Hawk Clowd
Summary: There is one thing in the world that Shuichi has always wanted to do but couldn't. Will Yuki help him realize his dream at last?
1. Part One

**Title:** Learning to Fly

**Author:** Hawk Clowd

**Disclaimer:** Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a _happy_ ending every once in awhile.

**Blood Type:** Chocolate syrup. Simply because I can.

**Part:** One out of Five

**Warnings:** None, so far. I'm trying to cut back on my cursing, both in my writing and in real life, so there shouldn't be _too_ much of that going on. There may be smut later on, but I make no guarantees.

**Archived:** The usual places. I do _not_ do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.

---

"Do you know what I've always wanted to do?" Shuichi asked Yuki, who was lounging on the couch nearby, trying to watch the evening news. Shuichi was sitting a few feet away, on the floor, and when the writer didn't respond, Shuichi edged closer to him so that he could nudge the blond in the side.

Yuki sighed in irritation. "Do we have to do this now?"

Shuichi paused. "No, I guess not. But I'd like it if we could; I'll end up forgetting about it if we don't and I don't want to forget to tell you this!"

"Fine then. What is it you've always wanted to do?" Yuki inquired, his eyes never straying from the television screen. The current broadcast consisted of something along the lines of breakfast cereals curing cancer, which Yuki didn't particularly care about, but the reporter had a familiar voice and he couldn't figure out why. He was also hoping that Shuichi would take a hint and shut his trap for a little while.

No such luck.

"I've always wanted to fly," Shuichi told him gleefully.

Yuki grunted. "I'll buy you a plane ticket," he replied. "Maybe even two. Now be quiet."

"Na~aa, Yuki, that's not what I meant!" Shuichi protested, eyes wide. "I mean, I can understand why you thought I meant that, but that's really not what I meant! But it did sort of sound like that's what I wanted to say, so..."

Having realized why the reporter's voice was so familiar (she had been one of his unremarkable one night stands a few years back), Yuki turned away from the television to watch Shuichi go into a brief vocal tirade as to why Yuki must have misunderstood his meaning. It amazed the writer when he realized that the possibility of him misinterpreting the statement on _purpose_ never once crossed Shuichi's mind.

Interrupting the fool by reaching over and clamping the boy's lips shut, Yuki frowned. "So what _did_ you mean, then?" he asked. The news had been put on hold temporarily by a steady stream of commercials, so Yuki decided he had the time to hear Shuichi out. He released the boy's mouth. "And don't say you want to learn how to fly an airplane. I don't trust you behind the wheel of a car, much less in a plane's cockpit."

Shuichi snickered at the word 'cockpit', as teenage boys are prone to do, but he shook his head. "Nope, I didn't mean _that_, either! I want to fly without machinery or nothing, just like a bird!"

Allowing himself a brief moment to imagine his lover dressed in a duck costume and jumping off the roof of the apartment building they lived in, flapping his arms all the while, Yuki's patience quickly turned into cynicism. "Like a bird? You can't do that--it's ridiculous."

"I never said I could actually _do_ it," Shuichi cried, face pulling into a pout. "I just _wish_ I could! Don't make fun of me, Yuki! Haven't you ever dreamed of being able to do something like that?"

Thinking back on all of the daydreams he could remember having, Yuki shook his head. "No, I haven't. It certainly would make sex a lot more interesting if you could do it, though."

Shuichi made a face. "Pervert."

Yuki chose not to respond to that, opting instead to turn back to the television. The current commercial involved someone chasing a bear around in circles. Yuki didn't catch what it was supposed to be advertising, but he did think the concept of chasing bears held some promise. Once he got over his flying thing, Yuki would send Shuichi out to do that.

"We should jump out of a plane together," Shuichi said finally with a decisive nod of his head.

It took a moment for that statement to sink in, but, once it did, Yuki couldn't help but gape at the younger boy. "Why should we do something crazy like that?"

"It would be fun!" Shuichi said. "And maybe... Maybe it would be a little bit like flying!"

"Not going to happen."

"Why _not_? C'mon, Yuki, it's perfectly safe!"

Yuki shot the boy a look. "About as safe as jumping in front of a moving bus, maybe."

"No, really, it is! You get lessons beforehand and they give you an extra parachute just in case the first one doesn't work and you can even have the instructor with you the whole time if you're not ready to go it alone! See, they strap him onto your back just in case you forget to do something and he--"

"_No_, Shuichi."

The singer began to whine. "But I wanna~aaaa!"

Yuki scowled. The news program was back on, but he no longer cared about it overly much. He was imagining himself jumping out of a plane, the ground quickly rising to meet him... And the parachute not working as it was supposed to. If it was a slow news day, he would probably make the front page of the paper. He could see the headlines now: 'Novelist plunges to his death! Stunned lover says he never saw it coming!' No. No no no no no.

"Yuki, c'mon!" Shuichi continued. "It would be so cool! How many couples get to say that they jumped out of a plane together?"

"The crazy ones," Yuki growled in reply, "and we are _not_ a 'couple'." He frowned. "If you want to leap to your death, go ahead, but don't drag me along with you!"

"But doing it alone won't be nearly as much fun!" Shuichi cried, propelling himself into Yuki's lap and wrapping his arms around the writer's neck. "Come _on_! Let's go sky-diving!"

The boy apparently had no idea as to how stubborn Yuki _really_ was. "I said _no_."

"But--"

"No!" Yuki scowled. "And I don't want to hear anymore about it, do you understand?"

"Yes," Shuichi mumbled. He flung himself off of Yuki so that he was sitting on the other end of the couch. Crossing his arms over his chest, the boy began to mutter to himself, quietly so that Yuki couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

Yuki frowned, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. How on Earth had he ended up with a boyfriend that talked to himself? Why couldn't he just have a normal, sane, understanding boyfriend? For that matter, he reasoned, why stop there? Having a girlfriend would be much better. One who wasn't paranoid or demanding, preferably. He sighed. Because girls like that didn't exist, he reasoned, and because Shuichi was... Shuichi, and Yuki wouldn't have traded that for all the one night stands in the world, even despite the fact that the boy had a tendency of going out of his mind every ten minutes.

"I'm going to jump out of a plane," Shuichi declared finally, a note of triumph in his voice. "And I'm gonna do it all by myself!"

This _again_? Yuki groaned inwardly. "Fine," he replied, "but don't expect me to catch you when things go wrong!"

"Don't worry," Shuichi replied. "I won't."

**---to be continued--**


	2. Part Two

**Title:** Learning to Fly

**Author:** Hawk Clowd

**Disclaimer:** Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a happy ending every once in awhile.

**Blood Type:** Chocolate syrup. Simply because I can.

**Part:** Two

**Warnings:** None, so far. I'm trying to cut back on my cursing, both in my writing and in real life, so there shouldn't be too much of that going on. There may be smut later on, but I make no guarantees.

**Archived:** The usual places. I do not do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.

**Author's Notes:** They're _still_ out of character, aren't they...? -_- I'll have to fix that later on.

---

The days passed quickly. Yuki soon forgot about Shuichi's wish to go sky-diving, which was perfectly understandable given that the boy seemed to be caught up in his work and hadn't mentioned flying at all. Yuki spent a lot of time teaching himself how to play poker, which was harder than he had expected it to be, and trying to think up a decent idea for his new writing project. In fact, nearly an entire month went by before the topic was approached again.

Yuki had left briefly in order to pick up a few dozen cartons of cigarettes and, when he returned, noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking, indicating that he had at least one new message. Ripping open one pack of cigarettes, Yuki pressed the blinking red button in order to listen to the message, then put the cigarette to his lips and began searching for his lighter.

"Shindou-san," the message began, "this is Arashi Yazawa from Tanudem International, returning your call. I just wanted to let you know that we're honored you chose us and that we have a spot open on Saturdays from three to four. And yes, we _do_ provide both the plane and the parachutes. Call back if you have any more questions, Shindou-san. See you on Saturday!"

The cigarette fell, unlit, from between Yuki's lips. Parachutes...? The argument he'd had with Shuichi about sky-diving rushed back to him and he cringed. The fool was actually planning on doing it? It hadn't been an idle threat after all?

Yuki's imagination suddenly ran wild. He could just picture the boy zipping up the tight-fitting jumping suit and leaping out of the plan, only to realize that he'd left his parachute aboard. He'd become a tiny pink smear on the ground, leaving Yuki behind to... To what? Yuki had to put a bit more thought into that. Leaving him to relish the silence? Leaving him to finally meet a few of his deadlines? Leaving him to NOT RECEIVE PHONE CALLS ABOUT SKY-DIVING???

Yuki scowled. Shuichi had bought himself a cell phone once upon a time, hadn't we? Yes, he had! So where the hell had he scribbled down the goddamn phone number? Mentally scolding himself for not having let Shuichi enter it into his speed dial as the singer had originally wanted to do, Yuki began ransacking his apartment, looking for the number.

Shuichi arrived home before Yuki had found it, but not soon enough to prevent the writer from destroying two room and half of another.

"Yuki, tadaima!" the boy called from the doorway, kicking off his shoes. "I had a... Whoa." Even from his place two rooms away, Yuki could sense his lover's shock as the singer took in the messy apartment. "Jeez, Yuki, what did you do? This place looks worse than my bedroom after a hurricane!"

Nearly three months before, Yuki and Shuichi had moved all of Shuichi's extra things into one of the apartment's extra closets. This was also where Shuichi 'hung out' when he had his friend Hiro over, and although Shuichi rarely slept in it, the room did have a futon hiding somewhere in all that clutter, so it had been christened Shuichi's bedroom. And while Yuki could easily understand Shuichi's surprise upon seeing the messy apartment--he truly was a tidy person, for the most part--he resented the implication that _this_ mess could even hold a candle to the disaster that was Shuichi's bedroom. He stormed out of his own room fuming to himself, approaching the wide-eyed boy who dared insult his mess.

"You," he snarled, narrowing his eyes at Shuichi. "This is all _your_ fault."

Shuichi let out a frightened squeak and backed away until he was pressed flat against the wall. "If this is about the credit card bill, I can explain everything, Yuki! Y'see, we were in Kinki for a show but the guitar didn't hook up to the amps the place provided us and I had sort of conveniently borrowed your credit card and I guess things got a little out of hand, but I really was gonna pay you back, I swear I was! And that thousand dollar candy dish really does look a lot nicer than your old ashtray did, don't you think so? I mean, you said it--"

"Where the hell did you put that stupid paper with your cell number on it?" Yuki asked meanly, glowering at the boy. He'd deal with Shuichi's latest confession later on.

"Eh?" Shuichi blinked, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Yuki, it's taped to the fridge, just like it has been ever since I bought the phone."

"No, it isn't."

"Yeah, it is."

Yuki scowled, holding up a finger. "You. Wait here," he ordered before he stalked into the kitchen, hell-bent on proving to himself that he had not just wrecked his entire apartment for no reason at all.

Luck was not on his side.

It didn't take Yuki very long to catch sight of the bright pink heart-shaped sticky note Shuichi had practically glued to the refrigerator door. Yuki stared at it in horror. Shuichi had been right. The number had been there all along. Groaning, Yuki went back to the living room, pushed all the crap that had collected on the couch onto the floor, and collapsed in the new clear spot.

"Yuki!" Shuichi cried out, rushing over. The boy frowned. "Is that what this was all about? My _phone_ number? You destroyed the place because you wanted to call me? That's so sweet!"

"No," Yuki corrected with a scowl, "this was about something else."

"What?"

Yuki inclined his head towards the answering machine. "Root through a few years worth of papers and receipts until you find the phone. Someone left a message for you."

"Oooh, someone left me a message?" Shuichi repeated, brightening visibly, which made Yuki wonder about the boy's sanity. The singer received just as many phone calls as Yuki himself did (usually averaging around six or seven a week), but he, unlike Yuki, was always excited to get them. Shuichi practically skipped over to the phone in his eagerness to hear the message, clearing away a bit of the mess so that he could find the device. Pressing the button on the machine, he listened to the message carefully. He grinned when it was over.

"Cool," he said with a pleased nod of his head. "I can't wait until Saturday! It's gonna be so~ooo awesome! I mean, it's--" Something seemed to register in Shuichi's brain and his voice trailed off as he turned to look at Yuki a touch more closely. "You were going to call me just to yell at me about the lessons, weren't you?"

Yuki paused, unsure of what the proper response was supposed to be. Lacking the appropriate words, he settled for a grunt, hoping Shuichi would interpret it correctly.

"I don't believe you!" Shuichi cried. "I bought that cell phone for emergencies or in case you felt a strange need to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, as if _that_ would happen, and the only reason you ever want to call me is so you can scream at me and berate me more than you already do at home! No fair! Foul ball! I have a good mind to take my number off of the fridge so that you can't try something like that ever again!"

Yuki couldn't help but wonder what Shuichi's problem was. It wasn't as though he'd managed to find the number anyway. "But sky-diving?" he questioned, getting back onto his feet. "That's dangerous! Do you have any idea what could happen?"

"I think I know more about it than you do! I've been doing research on it!" Shuichi replied loudly. "Besides, you said you didn't care what I did so long as I didn't try to drag you along with me! Remember?"

Come to think of it, he did remember saying something along those lines. Yuki scowled, annoyed that he no longer had a good reason for being angry. Not, he realized, that he'd had one in the first place. He turned his back to Shuichi, furious with himself for having been so stupid.

"I'm going to bed," he said finally, after a long silence had passed between them. "Clean this place up before I wake up or else you'll be sleeping on the goddamn balcony for the rest of the year."

"But it's not _my_ mess," Shuichi argued. "It's yours! You aren't being fair, Yuki!"

Shuichi's protests and complaints fell on deaf ears, however, as Yuki went to his bedroom without another word. Sighing to himself, Yuki got changed for bed, locked the door in order to keep Shuichi out, and then fell into bed.

**---to be continued---**


	3. Part Three

**Title:** Learning to Fly

**Author: **Hawk Clowd

**Disclaimer: **Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a happy ending every once in awhile.  I also don't own Utada Hikaru, who I mention somewhere along the lines, and I certainly didn't invent skydiving.

**Blood Type:** Chocolate syrup.  Simply because I can.

**Part:** Three

**Warnings:**  There are none, so far. I'm trying to cut back on my cursing, both in my writing and in real life, so there shouldn't be too much of that going on. There may be smut later on, but, really, I can make no guarantees.

**Archived:** The usual places. I do not do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.

**Author's Notes:** The general out-of-characterness of this story makes me want to bash my head against a very hard wall.  I apologize for it all.

---

Saturday came far too quickly for Yuki's taste, and Shuichi approached the blond carefully that afternoon, asking to borrow taxi money so that he could get to and from his skydiving lesson.  After taking a moment to wonder why the boy couldn't use any of his own money, Yuki asked what Shuichi would do if he were refused any money.  Shuichi only shrugged and said he would hitchhike.  Or, if that didn't work, he would go to the local bookstore and instruct the clerk to give their home phone number to each and every person who entered the store.  Groaning to himself, Yuki got to his feet and began searching around for his wallet.

He eventually found the wallet, which he had left in yesterday's pants pocket along with his keys, and an idea came to him.  Tossing his keys into the air and catching them one handedly, Yuki smiled at Shuichi.

"I'll drive you," he declared, "but just this once.  After this, you get your own rides."

Shuichi, to Yuki's surprise, shrank back in horror.  "Nuh-uh!  There is absolutely no way I'm letting you drive me anywhere, Mister I-crash-into-trashcans-just-for-kicks!"

"I only did that _once_," Yuki pointed out, "and they were really ugly looking trashcans in any case.  Their owners would have thanked me.  Hurry up and get in the car."

"But--"

"Get into the car!"

Shuichi saluted.  "Sir, yes sir!" he replied loudly before he laughed and ran off in the general direction of the door.  Yuki followed him, shaking his head, and then stepped into the elevator.

The elevator stopped only once on their way down, and that was to pick up Mawako Tanaka, the college girl who lived on the floor below them and was constantly calling to complain about the noise.  It was a reasonable complaint, Yuki supposed.  Shuichi was always playing his damn music too loud for one thing, and Yuki occasionally turned the television up louder than it had to be in order to drown out the brat's constant wailing.  Luckily, the girl was a huge fan of Shuichi's music and was too busy squealing over being able to see the pink-haired mongoose in person (again) to berate and lecture them about the noise level.

Nonetheless, both Yuki and Shuichi were glad to get out of that elevator.

"That chick is a nut," Shuichi mumbled as they got into Yuki's car.  "Girls like her are the reason I'm glad to be off the market right now.  And I really can't wait for her to graduate from University and move far, far away."

"Maybe we should find a way to distract her from her studies so she's forced to drop out," Yuki mused aloud, slipping the car key into the ignition slot.

"How?"

Yuki looked over at the boy with a smirk.  "I don't suppose having sex on the balcony right above her apartment would agree with you?"

Shuichi made a face.  "Pervert."  He was smiling, though, so Yuki didn't worry about the statement at all.  "Hey, Yuki?" the boy questioned finally.  "Why are you doing this?  Driving me to my lesson, I mean.  You were against my taking lessons in the first place and I could have just taken a cab or something, you know."

"This won't be a regular thing.  Don't get used to it."

"I didn't really think it would be," the boy replied.  "I'm still not sure why you're doing it _this_ time.  So why?"

"Where did I put my cigarettes?"

"In your coat pocket.  Why are you avoiding answering my question?"

"Because you are still asking it."

Shuichi pouted.  "Stop doing that--I want a straight answer!  Why are you driving me around?"

Yuki frowned as he pulled the car out of the parking garage and out into the street and reached down to retrieve his sunglasses and put them on.  "Am I not allowed to do you a favor every once in a while?"

Shuichi opened his mouth to say something but then shut it again.  He appeared to think his answer over before he shrugged.  "I guess you are," he replied.  It was obvious that he was not completely satisfied with that answer, but he let the subject drop, much to Yuki's relief.  The younger boy sighed loudly.

"Can I turn on the radio?"

"No."

"Why not?  I promise I won't turn it on too loud!  It won't bother you at all, I promise!"

Yuki scowled.  "Fine, you can turn it on.  If you start singing along, however, I will find some way of making you shut up that may or may not involve ripping out your throat.  Understand?"

"Of course!" Shuichi replied cheerily, leaning forward to flip the radio on.  After browsing several stations, he finally settled on one that was playing--to Yuki's surprise--some decent music.  It certainly wasn't techno, which was Shuichi's favorite sort of music, but it wasn't really of any genre that Yuki could identify right off of the top of his head, either.

"This is Utada Hikaru," Shuichi said with a happy smile.  "Isn't she good?  And she's real nice, too--I met her just a little while back, at a premiere thing or something like that."

"I knew who it was," Yuki replied curtly.

Shuichi stuck his tongue out in response, which made Yuki frown.  Pretending to concentrate on the road that lay in front of him, Yuki cleared his throat.

"Don't stick that thing out unless you plan to _use_ it," he instructed.  Shuichi made a face, but he did put his tongue back into his mouth, where it belonged.  Yuki tried to hide a smirk; sometimes it was so very easy to ruffle the brat's feathers.  Now, with any luck, he would be able to use his powers for good and convince Shuichi to give up the idea of jumping out of a plane.  That would make this whole trip worth it.

The airfield was quite a distance away from the apartment, but Yuki's amazing driving skill had the two of them arrive nearly half an hour too early.  This was actually a lucky thing, as it took far more time than it was worth for Yuki to find a decent parking space, so in the end it didn't matter.

The place was actually quite impressive, Yuki decided when he finally got out of the car and had the chance to look at it properly.  It really consisted of one very large white building, a row of small planes off to one side, and a trampoline.  The runways and take-off zones weren't really visible yet, so Yuki imagined they were somewhere in the back.  He didn't have much of a chance to think about it, however, as Shuichi tugged on his sleeve and pulled him into the white building.

It took approximately two minutes for Shuichi to locate the front desk, where his instructor was waiting, and so he bounded up with Yuki still in tow.

"Hello!  I'm the great genius Shuichi Shindou and this is grumpy-man Yuki Eiri and it's really nice to meet you!"

The instructor was a handsome young man, probably in his late twenties, and he looked every bit of the atypical Japanese man.  His black hair was cut short, away from his face, and his brown eyes flashed as he caught sight of Shuichi.  He bowed and smiled in greeting.

"I am Arashi Yazawa," he said.  "Thank you for choosing the Tanudem Airfield for your lessons, Shindou-san.  We are honored to have you here."

"Heee...  Well, thanks!"  Shuichi beamed.  "What's on the plan for today, Yazawa-san?"

Yuki stifled a groan and rolled his eyes.  This _always_ happened when Shuichi met new people; the brat would up the perkiness factor by a solid twenty thousand points and be bouncy for the whole goddamned day.  The next few days of living with the singer would be absolute hell, unless Yuki could figure out a way of either shutting the boy up or putting the hyperactivity to good use.

Yazawa indicated the paper in his hands.  "Today we will go over the different kinds of jumps available here at Tanudem Airfield so you can decide which sort of jumping you would like to try, Shindou-san.  There are several videos we can watch to help you decide.  The actual lessons will not start until next week or so."

"All righty!"  Pausing momentarily, Shuichi jabbed Yuki in the ribs.  "Can I have your car keys?" he asked, although Yuki had the idea that this was not really a request.

"What for?"

"So you don't drive away and leave me behind, that's why.  I know you--when you get frustrated or whatever you'll leave and then I won't be able to get home.  So give me your keys," Shuichi insisted, jabbing the writer again.  Yuki grudgingly complied, trying to avoid a scene, and the singer smiled brightly.  "Thank you."

He'd been looking on silently up to this point, but with the transaction completed, Yazawa cleared his throat and smiled again.  "This way, please."

Smiling cheekily at his supposed victory, Shuichi followed Yazawa around the building obediently, like a puppy.  Coming to the realization that there was nothing else for him to do, Yuki trailed behind the both of them, grumbling all the while about Shuichi's complete lack of trust in him.  He made a point of doing so just loudly enough for Shuichi to catch the odd phrase or two and eventually all of his muttering struck a chord in the singer.  Given that Shuichi was the sort of person with no talent for hiding his emotions, Yuki enjoyed watching the show as the boy turned from happy to moderately annoyed and then to guilty, where he finally settled.  Satisfied, Yuki ceased his complaints.

Yazawa eventually led the two of them into a rather small room that closely resembled a high school classroom.  There were rows of seats and desks, all perfectly aligned, facing a large chalkboard that had a pull-down projector screen atop of it.  There was a small television cart, equipped with a VCR and a rather extensive collection of cassette tapes, sitting in the corner.  Indicating that Shuichi and Yuki should sit, Yazawa moved to fiddle with the television cart.  Shuichi wandered haphazardly around the rows of desks, apparently trying to find the one that would suit him best, and Yuki took a seat in what was almost the exact center of the room.  Shuichi eventually came to the conclusion that he, too, wanted to sit in the middle of the room and forced Yuki out of the chair so that he could have it.  Yuki reluctantly took a seat directly behind the brat.

Once they were seated, Yazawa spent a few more minutes playing with the television cart.  Then he looked up and smiled.  "Shindou-san," he began, "there are many different kinds of jumps offered at this field.  The first video I will show you will explain three of the most basic types."

"Bring 'em on!" Shuichi cried, grinning from ear to ear.  Rolling his eyes, Yuki reached into his pocket for his half-empty carton of cigarettes and a lighter, feeling the need for a spontaneous nicotine fix.  Shuichi apparently disagreed, however, because when he heard the faint sounds the cigarette made as it was forced out of its packaging, he turned around and plucked both the carton and the single cigarette from Yuki's fingers.

"Don't do that in here!" he scolded.  "Didn't you read the signs when we walked in?  Smoking isn't allowed!"

Yuki cocked one eyebrow.  Since when had there been a 'no smoking' policy implemented in Tokyo?  "Excuse me?"

"You're not allowed to smoke in this building, so if you want to smoke you're going to have to do it outside," Shuichi explained needlessly.  "Isn't that right, Yazawa-san?"

Yazawa inclined his head in the smallest of nods.  "That is right, Shindou-san."

Taking his cigarettes back from Shuichi, Yuki scowled.  He hadn't been overly fond of this place in the first place, simply because they were actually going to try to teach Shuichi how to jump out of a plane without killing himself, but now they were forcing him to smoke outside as well?  That was practically criminal.  Exiting the room, Yuki made his way to the front doors, taking careful note of which hallways he was walking down.  Shuichi had his car keys, after all, and so not being able to find the brat would be a very bad thing.

Outside, the wind was beginning to pick up.  Scowling, Yuki turned so that the wind was at his back and, with a certain degree of difficulty, lit his cigarette.  Yuki _liked_ cigarettes; he liked the taste, the feel, the smell, and even the fact that they could potentially kill him.  Shuichi, on the other hand, hated them.  He was constantly complaining about the smell and the way they made him feel as though he was kissing an ashtray.  And he was constantly nagging and reminding Yuki that they were eventually going to kill him.  But Yuki still didn't care; if Shuichi was going to continue to do stupid things, such as jumping out of an airplane, Yuki figured that he was allowed to do something so simple as smoke when and where he wanted.  Let the brat complain.

Yuki lingered outside until he had finished with two cigarettes.  Feeling that was a sufficient buzz for the time being, he found his way back to the room where the television and his idiotic boyfriend were supposed to be.  It took about ten minutes and three wrong turns, but he did eventually get there.  And, when he walked in, Shuichi was standing on one foot on top of his desk waving his arms around in circles.  Yazawa seemed almost disappointed to see Yuki return and, given that the instructor had a beautiful view of Shuichi's rear, Yuki could hardly blame him.  The writer coughed slightly, catching Shuichi's attention.  The boy looked over, was caught off balance, and fell off the desk.

"Yuki, you're back!" Shuichi said happily, picking himself up off of the floor.  "Just in time, too!  I'm trying to decide between two kinds of jumps and I want to know what you think."

"I think you should give up this crazy idea and go learn how to knit or something constructive like that," Yuki answered without even a moment's hesitation.

Shuichi rolled his eyes.  "Luckily, that's not one of the choices!  I'm trying to decide between jumping with a static line--that's where the parachute opens all by itself--and tandem jumping.  They both looked neat and the lessons aren't quite as extensive.  What do you think?  I'm sort of edging towards tandem jumping myself, but..."

"Tandem jumping?" Yuki repeated, running through his mental vocabulary list.  Tandem.  Realization dawned on him and he turned to Yazawa with a frown.  "You mean he'll be jumping with someone else?"

"That's the general idea," Yazawa replied.  "It's really very simple; we have a harness that will fit both the student and an experienced diver--an instructor such as myself, most likely.  The other diver will do more or less everything and then Shindou-san will just have to enjoy the experience.  It involves the least amount of training and it's very safe."

"So he'll be jumping with someone _attached_ to him?"

"Indeed."  Yazawa smiled at him, which only irked Yuki all the more.  "Would you like to see one of our video clips?"

Looking from Shuichi's smiling face to Yazawa's, Yuki scowled.  "Yes," he said finally, "I do."

**--to be continued--**


	4. Part Four

**Title:** Learning to Fly

**Author: **Hawk Clowd

**Disclaimer: **Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a happy ending every once in awhile.  I also didn't invent skydiving.

**Blood Type:** Chocolate syrup.  Simply because I can.

**Part:** Four

**Warnings:**  There are none, so far. I'm trying to cut back on my cursing, both in my writing and in real life, so there shouldn't be too much of that going on. There are hints of smut.

**Archived:** The usual places. I do not do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.

---

The car ride home was tense, to say the least, and rather awkward, not to mention silent.  The radio had been on when they got into the car, but it had eventually seemed to so out of place that Shuichi himself had turned it off.  They were less than ten minutes away from the apartment before either of them spoke.

Shuichi scowled.  "You can't tell me what I can or can't do," he said.

"Bet?"

"But it isn't fair, Yuki!  I don't keep you from doing anything _you_ want to do!"  Shuichi crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the window, obviously still upset.  "I don't see what your problem is, either.  Tandem jumping is safer and cheaper and takes less time and everything!  What's wrong with it?"

Yuki couldn't even begin to explain all of his objections to Shuichi.  He had seen Yazawa's video on tandem and his mind was still running wild with the possibilities...  The buff instructor strapped that tightly to Shuichi, their hips grinding against each other's gently, the instructor's hands on Shuichi's waist and shoulders as they jumped out of the plane, then lingering once the parachute had been opened...  Shuichi would undoubtedly go spread eagle, just as the student in the video had done, leaving him vulnerable and giving the instructor the opportunity to...  Yuki shook his head, willing the images away.

"I don't need to explain anything to you," he said instead, ignoring Shuichi's question.  "If I let you jump at all, you'll be jumping _alone_, got that?"

Shuichi frowned then, puzzling over Yuki.  "Wait," he said, "are you jealous?  I don't really know why you would be, but you're acting like you do when you get jealous, so I think you are."

"Well, I'm not!" Yuki declared, turning his scowl on Shuichi.  Perhaps that was it, though.  Maybe he was envious of the man given the opportunity to be so close to Shuichi or perhaps he was bothered by the fact that Shuichi _wanted_ to strap himself to some strange man before he jumped out of a plane.  It didn't really matter either way, really.

Coming up to a stop sign, Yuki turned to face Shuichi and then shrank back.  The singer was practically imploding with glee; if the boy had access to any of his ridiculous costumes right then, Yuki had no doubt that Shuichi would be dressed as a dog, tail wagging and all.  It was almost amazing; Yuki always thought he was used to Shuichi's bizarre behavior but he was always taken aback when the singer started on one of his ludicrous tirades.

"What the hell is your problem?" Yuki asked, choking out the words.

Shuichi giggled.  "I made Yuki jealous," he chortled in a singsong voice.  "I don't know how I did it, but I did it!"  He lunged forward, latching onto Yuki's arm.  "You get all adorable and stuff when you're jealous!  You should do it more often!"

If there was one adjective in the world that Yuki did not want attached to his name, it was adorable.  He shook Shuichi off and stomped on the gas pedal, making the last turn and speeding the rest of the way to the apartment.  Once he'd parked the car, he practically bolted out of it, locking the doors and taking long strides towards the door out of the garage and into the apartment complex.  Shuichi practically had to sprint in order to keep up with Yuki, yet he was still always a pace or two behind.  Yuki pointedly ignored the singer's protests and pleas for him to "wait up" and managed to both get in the elevator and shut the doors just before Shuichi could catch up.  Yuki could hear the boy's wail of protest even from two flights up.  So the brat would have to take the stairs; big deal.

 Despite having the advantage of an interruption-free elevator ride to his apartment, Shuichi still managed to get to the front door first.  And, for some reason, he was also soaking wet.  Yuki gave him a look before unlocking the door.  A very angry Shuichi followed him inside.

"You're so mean!" Shuichi cried once the door had been shut.  "What did you go and do that for?"

"You needed the exercise," Yuki told him coldly, pushing past him into the kitchen, where he began to dig through the cabinets in search of something to snack on.  He was a little bit hungry.

"I get plenty of exercise!" Shuichi protested.  "I think you're just trying to be a jerk again!  Why are you so mean, Yuki?  I was just kidding about the making you jealous thing and stuff, although I still want to know why you have a problem with the tandem jumping, and you go and pull something like that!  I could probably make myself learn to hate you if I tried really hard!  And another thing!  You--"

"You're being a little bit cute right now," Yuki said, hoping that perhaps Shuichi would forget how angry he was if Yuki appealed to the more... sensual side of their relationship.  He ran his hands over Shuichi's bare arms and then pulled the singer closer to him, almost hugging him but not quite.  Yuki's touches were feather-light and he smirked when Shuichi shivered.

"I'm still mad at you," Shuichi told the writer distractedly.

But, Yuki noted silently, he was no longer yelling.  That was a plus.

"But of course," he said aloud.  Moving one hand down to fondle Shuichi's rear, Yuki put his head in the crook of Shuichi's neck, nipping at the soft skin just underneath Shuichi's jawbone.  The singer jerked away and Yuki nuzzled the spot in mock affection, apologizing.  He knew Shuichi's body inside and out and was well aware that Shuichi had very few sensitive spots: if a bite or nibble made Shuichi jerk away, it was usually because it had hurt the boy, not because he was at all turned on.  It really wasn't fair; if Shuichi wanted to grab the attention of the writer, all he had to do was touch Yuki's ear, but it didn't work both ways--if Yuki actually wanted Shuichi's attention, he had to work for it.  The fact that Shuichi had no attention span worth speaking of didn't help much.

"I mean, you know how much this thing means to me," Shuichi said, tilting his head in order to give Yuki more flesh to play with.  "I told you weeks ago that I've always wanted to know what it's like to fly, and this is probably as close as I'm going to get, you know?  I just really want to try it..."

Yuki was only half-listening.  "Mmm," he murmured as he sampled and delighted in the taste and feel of Shuichi's neck.  The boy was very much an acquired taste, yes, but he was also highly addictive.

"And if you were doing something that _you_ really wanted to do, Yuki, I wouldn't try and stop you," Shuichi continued.  "Like if you wanted to walk on the moon or something.  I probably wouldn't go and shove you into a rocket ship, but I would physically drag you from the place or punch your instructor in the eye, either.  You know, sort of like what you did to me today?"

"He was in my way," Yuki mumbled into Shuichi's shoulder.  The singer ignored him, shifting slightly so that he wouldn't have to talk around a mouthful of Yuki's hair.

"You shouldn't have hit him," Shuichi said.  "Anyway, do you get what I'm saying?  I wouldn't keep you from doing what you wanted to do--I'd support you all the way, not matter what--so why are you doing it to me?"

Yuki squeezed Shuichi's rear gently.  "Know what I really want to do?" he asked.  "I want to strip you naked, throw you onto my bed, and make you scream.  Over and over and over again."  He punctuated each 'over' with a bite or a kiss, making his way until he was kissing the corner of Shuichi's mouth.  "Support me with that?"

Shuichi flushed a bright red and giggled.  "Maybe I will," he said, pulling away from Yuki just slightly.  "But you've got to promise that you're going to support me when I go back to the airbase and jump out of that plane and you won't do anything stupid like you did today."

"I make no promises," Yuki said with a slight smirk, "but I don't really care what you decide to do."  That, he knew, was a lie, but Shuichi didn't have to know that.  Persuasion obviously wasn't working on the boy and neither was force, so perhaps reverse psychology would.  Yuki decided to let Shuichi's short attention span take care of things for him; the singer was bound to lose interest in the idea eventually, after all, and he'd give that up just as he'd given up on learning how to cook or on the martial arts classes he'd signed up for three or four months before.

Shuichi's face lit up and he bounced back into Yuki's arms, hugging the writer around the neck.  "Thank you, Yuki!"

Yuki rolled his eyes at the boy but said nothing, instead guiding Shuichi to the bedroom.

Saturday soon rolled around again and Shuichi went to his first true skydiving lesson.  In an effort to appease Yuki's temper, Shuichi had agreed to find out more about the static-line jumping, the only real type of skydiving that did not involve being attached to another person at any point in time during the training.  It did involve taking more lessons than any of the other forms of skydiving and was definitely taking major whacks at the singer's wallet, but Yuki never once heard him complain.  That in itself was amazing, really.  And so another Saturday passed.  And another.  And another.

After the fourth lesson or so, Shuichi came home with blue and purple bruises on his shoulders, chest, and on the insides of his calves.  He tried to hide them, but Yuki, of course, noticed them.  When he'd asked, however, Shuichi had only shrugged and fed him some story about wearing the harness for the first time and falling off of a trampoline.  Yuki had decided it would be better if he didn't ask about things like that anymore; it was better for his sanity.

Yuki no longer drove or accompanied Shuichi to the airbase, of course, but Arashi Yazawa somehow managed to bother him even from afar.  It often happened that when Shuichi came home he immediately began telling Yuki about his lessons and Yazawa's name almost always came up.  Whether Shuichi was telling the writer about the instructor's healing black eye or describing the way Yazawa had helped Shuichi put on his harness, it didn't matter.  The very mention of the man's name spurned Yuki into proving his ownership of Shuichi--over and over again.  Shuichi almost seemed to idolize the instructor.  And when Shuichi began calling Yazawa by his first name, Arashi, things only got worse.

In any case, several weeks passed and Shuichi continued going to the airbase every Saturday afternoon.  Soon it began to become almost routine...  And then, one Friday morning, Yuki's phone rang.  He was in the middle of reading a book at the time and almost decided not to pick up the phone at all, but, for some reason, he did anyway.

"What?" he answered, not bothering to extend even basic courtesies to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Moshi-moshi.  This is Arashi Yazawa from Tanudem International.  Is Shindou-san available to come to the phone?"

Yuki scowled.  "No.  What do you want?"

"I was simply calling to remind Shindou-san that he is supposed to arrive early tomorrow--around ten o'clock--so that we can prepare him for the jump," Yazawa said smoothly, not at all phased by Yuki's gruff attitude.

Yuki paused.  "He jumps tomorrow?"

"Yes, around two-thirty.  Will you be there?"

Considering that, Yuki frowned.  Shuichi would be thrilled if he showed up, but did he _really_ want to go watch the singer plummet to his death?  The course had put Shuichi in situations that were barely similar to jumping out of a plane, such as the trampoline jumps Shuichi had told him about, and Yuki didn't quite see how things like that could prepare someone for skydiving. He had also belatedly come to the realization that while static-line jumping did, in fact, mean that Shuichi was gong to jump alone, it also meant that he was _on_ his own.  In other words, if something went wrong, the instructor and flight officials could only do so much from their individual positions on the ground and in the plane.  The static line would be attacked to the plane, of course, and the parachute would open on its own after Shuichi surpassed a certain distance, but everything else--including landing and guiding the parachute--was up to Shuichi, and Yuki was not entirely certain that Shuichi could handle such a huge responsibility.  Images of Shuichi turning into a little pink smear on the ground popped into his head yet again.

"No, I won't be there," he answered finally.  "I'll give him your message."  Then, without waiting for a reply, he hung up the phone.

Shuichi was in an unusually amorous mood when he arrived back from work, a little something Yuki was more than willing to fix (several times over, in fact).  They were lying in Yuki's bed later that evening, Shuichi attempting to clean himself off with tissues and Yuki enjoying a cigarette, when the singer decided it was time to spoil Yuki's day.

"I get to do the jump tomorrow," he said.  "All by myself, you'll be glad to hear."

"Nnn," Yuki grunted noncommittally.  He had a very good idea of what Shuichi was going to say next.

"Yeah.  Um, I'd really like it if you would--"

"Well, I won't," Yuki interrupted.  "I have better things to do."

Shuichi frowned.  "Like what, watch paint dry?  You just don't want to see me accomplish something!"  He tossed the used tissues at Yuki, still scowling.

Yuki made a face, brushing the tissues off.  "That's disgusting," he said.

Shuichi ignored him.  "Maybe I don't even really want you to come see me jump," he said coldly.  "What do you think about _that_?"

"Good.  Maybe you're finally learning that I just don't care."  Yuki got out of bed, putting out his cigarette as he did so.  "I'm going to take a bath.  Change the bed-sheets for me."

When Yuki got out of the bath, the sheets were still dirty, the bed was unmade, and Shuichi had locked himself in his own tiny bedroom.  Sighing and realizing that this was indeed the first time the boy had slept in his own room, Yuki cleaned up his bedroom, changed the sheets, and crawled into bed.

**--to be continued--**


	5. Part Five

**Title:** Learning to Fly

**Author: **Hawk Clowd

**Disclaimer: **Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a happy ending every once in awhile.  I also didn't invent skydiving.

**Blood Type:** Chocolate syrup.  Simply because I can.

**Part:** Five

**Warnings:**  Sap.  Sap.  And, of course, more sap.  I hate sap.  Why did I put it in this story?

**Archived:** The usual places. I do not do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.

---

The night passed slowly for Yuki Eiri, who couldn't quite bring himself to go to sleep.  This wasn't exactly unusual for him, really; Yuki often spent sleepless nights in front of his computer or with a halfway decent book and it rarely bothered him.  This time, however, Yuki couldn't bring himself to pay attention to either his computer or any of the books in his collection, so he just sat in bed and smoked cigarette after cigarette.

Smoking, Yuki decided, was undoubtedly the best nervous habit _ever_.  It kept him from having to think too much and gave him something to do with his hands besides.  Everything about smoking was simple.  Take out the cigarette, light the end, and do breathing exercises until the thing was done.  Perfect.

He must have slept somewhere along the line, given that he woke up to the sound of the television turning on in the other room.  Looking at the clock, Yuki groaned.  Shuichi would have left quite some time ago, probably, so that meant the television had turned on by itself.  It did that every so often, usually at the very worst times (such as when Yuki was trying to persuade Shuichi to put away the goddamn keyboard and go fuck in the bedroom), and the writer always swore that he was either going to fix it or throw it out...  And then forgot about it.

In any case, the television woke him up.  Shuichi had obviously been the last one to have it on, given that the volume was turned up to a decibel that could cause permanent damage to a person's ears and the station was set to one of those terrible music channels that the brat loved so much.  Yuki scowled, propelled himself out of bed, and then went into the living room.  He meant to turn off the television, but a flash of pink caught his eye on screen and he realized that the station was playing yet another Bad Luck video.  Yuki didn't recognize the song, however, and he frowned, turning the sound down a bit so he could listen in peace.  He sat on the couch for the remainder of the video, trying (and failing) to place the song.

How long had it been since he'd bothered listening to Shuichi jabber on about his lyrics?  When had he last gone to one of Shuichi's concerts?  Yuki couldn't remember.  Was that a bad thing?  Probably.  Shuichi was undoubtedly keeping track and holding all of that against him.

Sighing, Yuki checked the clock again and then turned off the television.  If he dressed quickly and hurried along all of the major highways, he could probably still get to the airbase before Shuichi had a chance to get on a plane.

About half an hour (and two dented trashcans) later, Yuki arrived at Tanudem International.  It did take him almost a full fifteen minutes to locate Shuichi and Yazawa, however.  They were in the hangar, apparently preparing Shuichi for the upcoming jump.  One of the planes, near the back, was running; Yuki assumed that was going to be Shuichi's suicide machine.  Closer to the main building, Shuichi was standing near to an older gentleman dressed in a dark-blue jumpsuit, who was helping zip up Shuichi's skin-tight red suit.  Yuki eyed Shuichi's suit, wondering if they were allowed to take that home.

Shuichi didn't seem to notice Yuki at first, as busy as he was with putting on the black harness.  About halfway through, however, something made him look up and he caught sight of the writer standing nonchalantly in the doorway.  His face lit up and he pulled away from the man in the jumpsuit, running over.

"You came!" Shuichi cried happily as he hugged Yuki around the waist.  Yuki winced as the boy's harness dug into his ribs, but he didn't push Shuichi away.  "I'm so glad you decided to come after all!"

Yuki grunted.  "I'm looking forward to watching you splatter all over the ground," he said in a kind tone of voice.  "Perhaps I'll be able to work in peace once you're dead."

"I'll haunt you until the day you keel over, you bastard," Shuichi replied, nuzzling against the writer's shoulder.  "But nothing's going to go wrong.  Arashi says I'm one of the best students he's ever had and I think he really means it!"

"That's a change."  Yuki rubbed feeling back into his shoulder as Shuichi released him.  "Who's the man in the jumpsuit?"

"That's Taka.  He's the cameraman--he'll be jumping like, three seconds before I do and he'll be recording my jump the whole time!  Isn't that cool?"

"Sure."  Yuki smirked.  "Do we get to keep this new outfit of yours?"

Shuichi grinned.  "Yeah, it would make a great addition to my concert clothes, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Yuki agreed, "but it could be very hard to get off once you got all sweaty and hot...  We should test it later on."

Catching his meaning, Shuichi made a face.  "Pervert."  Then he laughed.  "I really love this harness thing, too.  I mean, it hurt a little bit when I first started wearing it, but now it's all okay.  See, these straps back here get hooked up to the parachute.  And since I'm doing the static-line, the rip chord is more or less attached to the plane, so the parachute will open by itself.  But if, for some reason, that doesn't work out, then there's also this handle here," Shuichi pointed, "that will open the reserve chute.  But all I've really got to know about are these toggle thingies here, which basically steer me around...  And they're breaks, too.  It's great.  And then..."

Before Shuichi could finish his sentence, Taka-the-cameraman shouted Shuichi's name and so the singer ran back over to him so he could start wrestling with his harness again.  Yuki pulled Yazawa aside and smiled tightly.

"If anything happens to him, do you know what I'll do to you?" he asked the man quietly.  The instructor shook his head, giving Yuki a confused look.  "You know, I'm not sure either.  But I can guarantee that you won't like it."

Yazawa frowned.  "You aren't serious, are you?"

"Bet?"

"But...  We can't control that!  We make the jumps as safe as humanly possible, but we can't exactly line the ground with mattresses or rubber padding," Yazawa protested.  "Nothing's going to happen to him, however, so you needn't worry.  Based on what I know of him, Shindou-san seems to be very resilient."

Scowling, Yuki let the man turn away and he looked over to see that Shuichi was just finishing up with his strap check.  The backpack-like parachute had just been attached and Shuichi had found a pair of goggles, too, and had those pushed up on his head.  Taka had already put on his harness and parachute and seemed to be ushering Shuichi towards the back of the hanger, to a plane.  Shuichi let himself be herded along for a moment and then seemed to second-guess himself, turning back around and running over to where Yuki was standing.  He reattached himself to the writer's waist.

"Thank you for coming to watch," Shuichi murmured into Yuki's shirt.

"Brat," Yuki replied, distancing himself slightly from Shuichi.  He tilted the boy's chin up and kissed him gently.  "You never would have stopped bothering me about it if I hadn't come to watch.  Don't forget how to use that parachute of yours, all right?  I'm too old to go around looking for a new decent piece of ass."

Shuichi made a face.  "You're only twenty-four," he reminded Yuki, "and I love you, too."

Releasing Yuki's waist, Shuichi pecked the writer on the lips again and then bounded back towards Taka, who had been joined by another man in a blue jumpsuit.  The three of them walked to the back of the hanger, Shuichi turning to wave every ten seconds until he was out of sight.  It was only then that Yuki belatedly waved back.

After a moment, Yazawa approached the writer with an obviously feigned smile on his lips.  "Well, shall we drive to the approximate jump site?"

Yuki hesitated for a moment.  "Yes," he said finally.  "Let's go."  The was going to be _bad_, he just knew it...

The ride took longer than Yuki had expected and he was surprised when Shuichi's plane didn't pass them for quite some time; it was moving at a speed slower than Yuki was even willing to drive at.  Yazawa drove and Yuki rode in the passenger's side, something he was neither accustomed to nor comfortable with, so Yuki was pleased when the car stopped.

Yazawa pulled a headset out of his coat pocket and put it on, hooking one end over his ear and situating the other so that it was near his mouth.  "Testing set one," he said.  "Shindou-san, can you hear me?"  There was a pause.  "Good.  Set two, do you read?  Taka?  Great.  Are we ready?"

Yuki frowned.  "He's jumping now?"

"Quiet, please."  Yazawa adjusted his headset slightly.  "Shindou-san?"

"What's going on?" Yuki asked.

"Please be quiet," Yazawa said again.  "Aa, sorry, I didn't catch that.  What did you say?"  There was another pause before the instructor turned to Yuki.  "Shindou-san asked me to call you a bastard, and I must say that it feels oddly satisfying to do so."  He ignored Yuki's sputtering.  "All right.  Go."

Yuki looked up at the plane passing overhead and his breath caught in his throat when he saw a tiny dark speck fall from the bulky blur of the plane.  He looked over at Yazawa.  "Is that Shuichi?" he asked.

Yazawa shook his head, watching the sky carefully.  "That's Taka, the cameraman."  He pointed up at the plane again.  "_That_ is Shindou-san."

Yuki looked back up, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun, and saw a lighter colored shape falling after the dark one Yazawa had identified as Taka.  Shuichi.  Yuki bit his lip as he saw both shapes falling.  Taka's parachute released first and Yuki gave Yazawa a sharp look.

"Is it supposed to happen that way?"

"Yes.  Taka deploys first and Shuichi's parachute will--" Yazawa paused.  "Shindou-san why hasn't your parachute released yet?"  Yuki shot Yazawa a look and the instructor nodded.  "All right, that's fine."

The one-sided conversation was getting on Yuki's nerves.  "What's going on?" he asked, never taking his eyes off of Shuichi's rapidly falling form.

"The chute didn't deploy.  Shindou-san is using the cutaway handle now, which will open the main parachute."  As Yazawa spoke, Yuki saw Shuichi's parachute open.  "See?"

Yuki couldn't answer him.  Even though he saw the parachute open and he knew Shuichi wasn't going to become a pink smear on the ground, his heart was still racing.  After all, the boy still had to _land_.  And although Yazawa was directing the singer from his spot in the car, Yuki knew that something was bound to go wrong; everything had been going far too well for Shuichi and Yuki knew better than to trust the singer to keep the Fates on his side.  Yuki needed a cigarette and he needed one badly but he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of Shuichi in order to find the carton he always kept on his person.  This was taking too long and--

"Toggle a little more to the left, and then... There.  Impact."

And it was over.

Letting out one long breath of air, Yuki finally allowed himself to relax just a little.  He waited a moment for Yazawa to say or do something but it didn't happen, so he turned to the instructor and frowned.  "Shouldn't we go see how he is?"

Yazawa hesitated.  "We can if you'd like," he said, "but it's not necessary.  I have Shindou-san on my headset, if you wish to talk to him."

"Drive over."

"One moment."  Yazawa started the engine of the car.  "Shindou-san, we're driving over."

The drive took less than ten minutes.  When Yuki finally saw Shuichi, the boy was struggling with his harness and parachute, trying to untangle them, but he was grinning from ear to ear and he was most definitely very much alive.  The camera man, Taka, who had landed not too far away, had already unhooked his own parachute and was trying to help Shuichi with his, but it really didn't matter that much.  Shuichi, when he saw Yuki and Yazawa drive up, practically slithered out of his harness (a fact which greatly unnerved Yuki; he could have done that in midair!) and ran over.  Once Yuki was out of the car, Shuichi lunged and caught Yuki around the neck, kissing the writer heartily on the lips.

"I did it!" he cried, hugging Yuki tightly.  "Did you see it?  I really did it!"

"And you're not dead," Yuki noted, almost as though he needed verification of some sort.

"And I'm not dead!"  Shuichi laughed.  "I really did it."

"Wonderful."  Normally Yuki would have shoved the singer away by then, embarrassed by the extended physical contact.  This time, however, he returned Shuichi's embrace, squeezing the boy slightly and letting the singer's presence calm his nerves.

Yazawa came up to them, smiling slightly.  "Congratulations, Shindou-san.  You've completed your first jump of the course!"

That caught Yuki's attention.  "_First_ jump?"

Shuichi nodded.  "Didn't I tell you, Yuki?  The static-line course involves almost seventeen jumps, total.  I have to do four more on the static-line before I can do an Accelerated Free Fall jump and they're gonna get higher every time I do it...  Today's jump was just from seventy-seven meters or so, which isn't very high at all.  Isn't that awesome?"

Yuki groaned and shooed Yazawa away.  The instructor left grudgingly.  "You mean I have to go through all of this again?" he asked.

"Unless you want me to just throw away my deposit, and I'm not going to do that no matter what you say!  I spent a lot of money on this and it's a lot of fun and I like it!"  Shuichi was grinning from ear to ear again.  "And there's nothing you can do to stop me, you know, because I--"

Yuki cut Shuichi off in mid-sentence.  "Did I say anything about stopping you?"

Shuichi paused, thinking that over.  "No," he answered incredulously, "you didn't."

Yuki nodded.  "Right.  I don't care if you do it or not, so long as I don't end up dying of a heart attack or something because of it."

"That's not funny, Yuki.  You shouldn't joke about stuff like that."

"Shut up; I'm trying to be nice to you.  Just don't expect me to catch you when things go wrong."

Shuichi smiled.  "I won't."  He hugged the writer tightly.  "Thank you."

**---end---**


End file.
